


Moments

by keirajo



Series: Random Transformers Works (multiple generations, etc.) [15]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Bondage, Chains, Drunkenness, F/M, Friendship, Hugs, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Multi, Sexual Fantasy, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, bond, surrender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: Random tiny little pieces of fiction that feature the one and only Rodimus (or maybe Hot Rod or Rodimus Prime!) with any kind of pairing I feel like doing.   Or fun pairing suggestions given to me by the fandom.   Each short piece will feature some incarnation of our favorite flame-colored mech paired off doing things with others--with a theme or a situation.Each short piece will have their own maturity ratings, but overall rated Explicit for the highest level of rating needed.
Relationships: Blurr/Hot Rod, Galvatron/Rodimus Prime, Hot Rod/Ultra Magnus, Megatron/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, Rodimus/Hot Shot, Rodimus/Thunderclash
Series: Random Transformers Works (multiple generations, etc.) [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1250396
Comments: 18
Kudos: 46





	1. Chains

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to start a thematic series of short works with Hot Rod/Rodimus/Rodimus Prime to keep in writing practice while I'm currently out of work and the resulting stress might prevent me from focusing on my ongoing regular series pieces of work. (I'd rather work on those when I'm not as stressed, so they can be the best they can be!) So, these pieces are for fun and aimed to be super-short...………..which is super weird for me, as I average 6000+ words per story, usually. XD

**_ Moments _ **

_Note: This chapter is explicit in rating for, well, interfacing of course. Featuring G1 cartoon Galvatron and Rodimus Prime, with the theme of chains/bondage._

_ Chapter One: Chains  _

“ _Really_ Galvatron—is **_that_** all you’ve got? _This isn’t even worth my time!_ ” Rodimus Prime chortled, his voice full of amusement—which absolutely contradicted the pure lust in his EM field right now.

Galvatron grunted and stepped far enough back to survey today’s little bit of handiwork. He was frustrated that it took him **_this long_** to set up something which should’ve been his greatest and most glorious piece of bondage framing ever—he _knew_ , as was always the case, they barely had an hour before Ultra Magnus and the Autobot forces would come tearing after him in the quest to get their young flame-colored leader back. And he wasted _TWENTY_ minutes on something that should have taken him only _FIVE_ minutes.

And it wasn’t like this grungy little planetoid was completely unknown to either the Autobots or the Decepticons as a place that Galvatron _enjoyed_ bringing his captives to—to play with them a little. Or torture them, if he felt like it.

And it wasn’t like Cyclonus could keep the Decepticons antagonizing the Autobots long enough for the fighting to break off and some heroic little Autobot force would come here to rescue their precious little Rodimus Prime.

“If you had not struggled so much while I was chaining up your legs, we would not have taken as long to get this ready. This is _your fault_ , as always, my Prime,” Galvatron said, firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

The powerful Decepticon Leader had to admit— _it was a lovely sight_. He hoped Cyclonus would put extra effort into his distractions towards the Autobots today and made sure that his glyphed orders to his Second-in-Command conveyed he wanted as much time bought as possible today.

Rodimus Prime was suspended in the air from a heavy stone framework that still arched over this ruined old room. He was suspended by a set of chains linked to cuffed wrists raised above his head. Meanwhile his legs were suspended by several more sets of chains—two at his knees, which spread his legs apart and two at his ankles, which kept him from [ _unintentionally_ ] flailing. Galvatron had to admit—the Autobot Leader looked **_very fraggable_** all chained up and helpless like this. The tautness of the chains kept his frame from swinging so much, as well.

“Hey, it’s not **_my_** fault that you suck at planning,” Rodimus laughed, offlining his optics and feeling his desire peaking inside of him.

“ ** _Prrrrriiiiiiimmmmeeee!!!_** ” Galvatron growled—the sound increasing in tone and volume the more syllables he put into the designation.

“ _Primus, I’m so fragging horny!_ ” The flame-colored mech moaned, feeling the heat increasing in his frame, even as his engines revved excitedly.

“Well, since we are suddenly more limited in time, you had better open and we can get to it,” the grey-and-purple mech chuckled, a sense of fondness in his voice. He watched as Rodimus Prime opened his array panelling and saw lubricant moist on the valve lips, leaking to drip from the lower curve of the younger mech’s aft. His rival and lover’s spike pressurized with a soft hiss, the orange biolighting pulsing rapidly with intense arousal. “I suppose you _truly are_ ready to go,” Galvatron chuckled, softly. He walked around to the young Autobot’s side and leaned down to swipe the tip of his glossa hungrily over the other mech’s lips.

“ _Always_ , my Emperor,” Rodimus Prime purred, happily, feeling a tightness in his valve and more lubricant seeping through the slightly parted lips.

**/WANT\**

“Oh, my Prime—you really do have _no shame at all_ ,” Galvatron murmured, a fanged grin down at the younger mech as he reached down with a servo and rubbed the wet rim of the younger mech’s valve. “I suppose we do not have much time for play or pleasantries this day. I am certain your very efficient Second will be here soon, as he always is.”

“Then, _seriously, **frag me now**_ , would you?” Rodimus laughed, grinning at Galvatron and arching his back as fingers pressed into him and rubbed lightly over sensor clusters inside of him. He purred even louder as his engines roared inside of him, drowning out his hearing and sending him into his own personal little world of pleasure.

Galvatron roared with laughter and walked back around his rival and lover’s frame, until he was standing between the chained-and-parted legs. He’d gotten the height just perfect for interfacing. The powerful Decepticon Leader opened his spike panel and let it pressurize with a soft hum of anticipation from his own engines. He rocked his hips a little and his thick black spike became drenched in the young Autobot Leader’s valve lubricant as it rubbed through the slightly-parted lips.

“It is pleasant that I do not have to work very hard for my fragging,” Galvatron said, stroking the red hip plating with one servo, as his other gently wrapped around the flame-colored mech’s spike.

**/MINE\**

Rodimus Prime nearly went crazy with the firm emotion of possession in Galvatron’s EM field.

**/WANTNEEDWANTWANTWANT\**

“Oh Prime—it is _always a delight_ to waste part of the day with you!” Galvatron roared with laughter as he pushed his way into the younger Autobot’s valve and began thrusting with enthusiasm.

They reached overload very quickly together and Galvatron pulled away as he heard sounds of fighting and skirmish coming closer, as well as the very familiar roar of Cyclonus’ alt mode’s engines in the general airspace of the area.

“It appears our fun is already over for today, my Prime,” he chuckled softly, reaching down to give the damp aft a playful swat. Lubricant and transfluid was already leaking from the full valve and trickling down to drip off the curve of the flame-colored mech’s aft. Galvatron laughed and gave a fond little smile at the limp frame vibrating with aftershocks of overload, pulling a towel from a subspace pocket and wiped off his own spike and servos before dropping the towel in a modesty sprawl over the open array panelling of Rodimus Prime’s frame.

“ _Mmmmm_. Another time, then,” Rodimus mumbled, satisfied— _at least for now_. “ ** _Later, Galvs!_** ” He called as he felt the EM field move away from him. No point in onlining his optics when he could still feel overload echoing through his frame, so he relaxed in the grips of the chains and enjoyed the last remnants of Galvatron’s playful fragging echoing through him.


	2. Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus, drunk, shows up at Megatron's hab suite--and Megatron's not very happy at that.

_Note: IDW Rodimus and Megatron and probably not as explicit as everyone would like. But the theme here is “kissing”, so it’s pretty tame and suits like Teen+ categories for the most part._

_ Chapter Two: Kiss _

In the middle of the recharge shift, Megatron did **_not_** appreciate being woken up by an irregular banging on his door. At this time of the recharge shift, Ravage was generally out prowling and looking for amusement, so the former Decepticon Leader was recharging peacefully by himself in his hab suite.

“ _Soooooooooo_ ………….I gotta ask…………..I just **_gotta_** ……!” Rodimus said, his voice slurred pretty badly, as Megatron opened his door.

He had _definitely_ had too much Engex and still had a nearly empty bottle in one servo. The bulky grey mech gave a low warning growl that was utterly lost on the drunken flame-colored mech barely standing in front of his door. Megatron whipped his head up and down the corridor and then yanked Rodimus in, because he was not going to have the Autobot brat making a spectacle outside in the hallway before his door.

“I don’t care what you want to ask, you’re going to recharge _now_ and burn off that Engex,” Megatron grunted, roughly shoving Rodimus down onto the poor and simple recharge slab in his room.

“ _No, **wait**_ ……….I gotta ask! You and ‘Screamer, _right_? I mean, the two of you had to hate-frag forever right? _See, got this bet_ …….” Rodimus began, babbling stupidly until Megatron clapped a large black servo over the younger mech’s mouth.

“Please, for the love of Primus— ** _shut up_** ,” the grey-colored mech snapped, one more second from losing his temper completely.

This ridiculous mech got under his plating like no one else ever could—he hated it and he admired it. Not even Starscream—clearly the subject of the flame-colored mech’s curiosity right now—ever got under his plating like **_this_**.

Bright blue optics stared up at him as mumbles and grumbles echoed beneath Megatron’s servo. The former Decepticon Leader had to admit, those optics were very lovely. The color of the blue glass-coverings seemed to have a unique texture for luminescence that lent to the natural light from his optic orbs.

Right now, however poetic those glowing optics looked, he _couldn’t_ stand here for the remainder of the recharge shift holding his servo over Rodimus’ mouth to keep him silent. Megatron sighed and reached over with his other servo to take the bottle from the younger mech’s servo and looked at the label.

“You didn’t even _dilute this_ —this is a **_mixer_** , you dumbaft,” Megatron muttered as his optics scanned the label contents. “You _can’t_ consume mixers—they are meant to be **_mixed_** with other Engex blends! _Gah_ , the taste alone of a mixer will probably mess up your fuel processor.”

Meanwhile Rodimus had brought both servos up to try and pull Megatron’s servo away from his mouth, kicking his legs on the recharge slab as he fought with all his strength to pull Megatron’s servo away. The scene was really quite comical, as Megatron’s effort was very minimal to keep his servo over Rodimus’ mouth and the younger mech was scrambling with everything he had right now.

“If you’ll be quiet and talk like a normal mech, I’ll remove my servo— _understand_?” Megatron asked, looking down at Rodimus.

Rodimus couldn’t necessarily say “ _yes_ ”, or even nod his head. He raised his servos and made a few gestures—thankfully, nothing foolishly rude—which Megatron took to mean acquiescence. He lifted his servo from Rodimus’ mouth and the younger mech took a deep set of incycles and exvents.

“ _SOOOOOOO………..!_ ” The flame-colored mech said, loudly, which made Megatron immediately clamp his servo back down on the younger mech’s mouth—and this time Megatron did get the rude gestures made with _both_ yellow servos.

_This was ridiculous_. 

Megatron couldn’t stand here for hours, trying to keep this ridiculous little brat silent.

“Honestly, _what is your problem_?” The grey-colored mech sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at the flame-colored mech trying once more to tear Megatron’s servo away from his mouth in a comical fashion. “ _Hmmm_. Perhaps I can find another way to shut you up.”

The bulky grey mech tossed the bottle into a nearby waste receptacle and then slid that servo under Rodimus’ shoulders. As his palm scraped lightly over the top ridge of the sunbright yellow spoiler, there was a whimper and tremble that went through the lithe frame.

_‘Like the Seekers’ wingplating, I see,’_ Megatron thought with a light inward chuckle.

In a few seconds, he had the flame-colored mech sitting up, but he still had the one black servo over Rodimus’ mouth. He only had a moment before Rodimus would start spouting words with his loud and obnoxious tone, so he had to do this quick. As soon as his servo was pulled away, he crashed his lips over Rodimus’.

He felt the surprise in the younger mech’s EM field, even as the frame stiffened in a weird and confused way. Then there was a relaxation as Rodimus’ lips parted a little beneath Megatron’s. The grey-colored mech did appreciate the cooperation in the kiss as he pressed the tip of his glossa through the slight part of the younger mech’s lips.

Rodimus gave a little whimper and his servos raised to grip Megatron’s neck fairing. The grey-colored mech gave a soft chuckle deep in his vocalizer and thrust his glossa in all the way, swiping it along the sides of the younger mech’s mouth and teasing a bit deeper into his intake. The flame-colored mech’s grips on Megatron’s armour began to tighten and the whimpering started sounding a bit desperate.

_Well_ , this was one step going too far and, in a moment, Megatron might do something he would regret if he kept kissing this frustrating young mech. He pulled away and the look on Rodimus’ faceplate told the former Decepticon Leader he could probably have gotten away with it, too.

_No_. He’d save it for _another time_. When Rodimus was not drunk and couldn’t honestly enjoy the situation.

Megatron gently laid Rodimus back down on the simple recharge slab with a firm servo on his chest. Then he gave it a light pat as he reached down and kissed the flame-colored mech on the forehead.

“Get some recharge, Rodimus. You’ll feel better in the morning shift,” the grey-colored mech murmured, kindly.

“ _Um, okay_ ,” the younger mech whispered, as he settled down and stopped fidgeting and babbling drunkenly. “Can I have a blanket?” He asked, looking around for one.

Megatron laughed softly and patted the flame-colored mech’s helm. “Let me look, I can’t guarantee anything,” he replied, walking over to the storage cabinet. The younger mech really could be adorable.


	3. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Rod of Corona loves his guardian, Magnus (the soldier formerly known as Ultra Magnus) very much and thinks about interfacing with him A LOT.

_Note: This one’s explicit, I think. *laughs* This one features Hot Rod from my “Transformers: Star Voyager” series, but it’s a stand-alone moment that doesn’t require you to read the series. For a brief note, Hot Rod was raised as an adopted sparkling on the colony planet of Corona, by Ultra Magnus………many adventures happen. Hot Rod loves Ultra Magnus and the relationship had a rocky start, but it was fueled up by Drift’s arrival on Corona—so, this is early on in the relationship._

_ Chapter Three: Fantasy _

Hot Rod came home from classes and the hab was empty, so that meant that both Magnus and Drift were teaching classes today. _So_ , what should he do now? Classes would go for about three more hours, he’d start fixing a meal about an hour before that—so, he currently had _two free hours_. The young, flame-colored mech went to the meal prep room and looked in the storage units to see what he might make for fueling tonight. He folded his arms across his chest and stared into the storage container with co-ags, pre-made snacks and processed Energon.

“ _Nnnngh_. I need to look up some new recipes online, but I guess I’ll go with a standard three-fold meal tonight,” he mumbled, shutting the door and leaving the meal prep room. “Now what to do?” He muttered, humming to himself as he walked towards his room.

He stopped when he passed the showering room. 

“ _Eh_. Why not wash up first?” Hot Rod chuckled softly. He went in and shut the door to signal to his housemates that the showering room was occupied.

Not that he’d actually mind if Drift or Magnus came in on him and shared it with him, of course—it was more for propriety’s sake.

Hot Rod hummed as he grabbed his favorite scrubbing gels and polishes. Then he walked over to the standing wash-rack. The young mech relaxed and rubbed the gel-covered sponge all over his frame. Actually, he kind of wished Magnus or Drift **_would_** come in and share a little romp with him. It would really be lots of fun………

“ _Jeeze_ , now I’m horny,” the flame-colored mech groaned.

He turned and leaned against the wall, opening his array panelling and incycled deeply. Hot Rod offlined his optics and reached a grey servo down to his groin. His digits first met his pressurized spike. The flame-colored mech groaned and stroked his digits along its length, feeling its ridges and a slight warmth from the biolighting that traced the transfluid pressure line on the underside. Hot Rod cupped his palm around the stiff organ and squeezed it lightly, giving a little whimper and squeal at his new sensitivity to his sexuality.

After all, it hadn’t been all that long since Magnus broke his seals.

Hot Rod was still learning about these more “ _secret spots_ ” of his frame.

“ _Mags……Mags_ ……” the young mech panted softly, sinking to the floor and thinking about the mech he’d loved all of his very short life. “ _Love you, Mags………love you **so much**!_” Hot Rod whimpered, reaching his other servo down to the area below his spike.

There was a sudden, hungry tightness in his valve. He knew that he really badly wanted Magnus’ spike filling him right now. Hot Rod flicked his anterior node and then pinched it, whimpering even more with want and desire. Then he slid two digits past his glowing node and traced the biolighting in the folds of his valve lips and pushed them into his valve shallowly with a soft little squeal.

_“I love you, my star,” Magnus said, his deep voice soft and near his audial area. A gentle glossa licked up his neck cabling._

“ ** _Mags_** ………” Hot Rod panted, pushing his digits deeper into his valve. “ _Mmmm…….Driiiifffft!_ ” He moaned, thinking of the wicked things that his other new lover could do with his mouth and fingers.

_“Do you like that? Shall I push them a bit deeper—about **here**?” Drift’s warm voice chuckled as a single digit pushed deep into his valve._

“ _Yeah, yeah!_ ” Hot Rod squealed, pushing his own digits deeper into himself as his other servo jerked hard on his spike.

He wanted them both. He wanted them both so badly right now, but he’d take at least one of them right now— _at least one of them_.

And some small part of his fantasy was about to come true when the door opened and Magnus stopped right inside. It only took the Voyager Class soldier about five seconds to facepalm himself and shut the door.

_::Drift, I have to take care of Hot Rod—set up the table and order a meal, I do not think that he will be able to focus on making any meals for us tonight,::_ Magnus sent to their other housemate. There was a light, fond chuckle in the tone of his mental voice. “Good eve, my star—are you enjoying yourself?” Magnus asked, kneeling down beside his young ward and lover. The showerhead began spraying his white armour and making it gleam under the lights of the room.

**/WANTWANTWANTNEEDWANTWANTWANT\**

Magnus smiled, raising a dark blue servo to brush his little lover’s jawline fondly. While he was still learning about sexuality himself, he knew how young and hot and revved up that Hot Rod could get. And he wanted to learn to do all that he could to ease the younger mech’s suffering in anyway. But he figured that right now, all Hot Rod wanted was a spike penetrating him and to finish off the overload building in his frame.

Magnus gently pulled Hot Rod’s grey servos away from his own frame and whispered to him to turn around and face the wall. From some of the things that Drift had taught him, rear entry positions could give the deepest thrusts and the angle would allow the ridges of his spike to tease the walls of his lover’s valve. Plus, pinning Hot Rod to the wall would allow him to completely drape his own EM field over Hot Rod’s and satisfy him on _all levels_.

“ _Love you, Mags……….. **love you** ……..”_ Hot Rod whimpered as he felt Magnus’ spike push up into him. The world around him fell into a lustful daze and he let his fantasy become real as the thrusting increased and drove him right to the overload he had been struggling to reach in masturbating.


	4. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus approaches Thunderclash on the Exitus.

_Note: IDW Thunderclash and Rodimus—this comes out of my “Ode” ‘fic shorts, with the “other ending” of the MTMTE/LL series, Rodimus on the Exitus with Thunderclash. Rodimus had been angry and antagonistic for awhile towards Thunderclash, but he finally started settling down and even opening up a little. Somewhat explicit in rating levels._

_ Chapter Four: Surrender _

Rodimus grunted and stood up. He paced his room a little bit and then sat back down. Then he grumbled and stood up again. This _wasn’t_ good. He couldn’t paint. He had three days of free time to get started on a new painting and he suddenly and absolutely had artist’s block.

The _Exitus_ was currently at an orbital station, getting refueled and everyone had been granted shore leave. The flame-colored mech had no interest in going out and was going to do a walkthrough evaluation on the ship at some point, then work on a new painting with the rest. He wasn’t Second-in-Command without a good reason, he had the authority to do what he wanted—unless his Captain wanted him to do something else.

Thunderclash wasn’t pushy, _most of the time_. **_Flirty_** , yes. Way too much of that. More than Rodimus was actually comfortable with on a daily basis. _Pushy_ , though, not so much. He rarely commanded Rodimus to do something the flame-colored mech may not have wanted to do. Commands were the general “ _workings of the ship_ ” kind of commands that a Captain had over a Second.

Lately, though, Rodimus had been bending towards even the flirting. Since the admission of his feelings for Megatron—the unrequited love that died when Megatron did—he’d been able to talk easier with Thunderclash. And Thunderclash hadn’t been as overbearing with his flirting towards the flame-colored mech anymore, which Rodimus had come to realize was simply a tactic to try and get him to lighten up.

“I’m stuck because………..I’ve got too much on my mind,” Rodimus sighed, staring at the sketches laid out on his digital desk board. “ _Tch_.”

He left the room and walked next door. Rodimus raised his servo to knock and then lowered it, hesitating. There were no sounds in Thunderclash’s room, so he was alone……….or maybe not even still in his room. The Captain said he’d be here for a little while, but the old Autobot hero may have left while Rodimus was struggling with his sketches. It’d be completely embarrassing if he came to ask for a chat and it turned out Thunderclash wasn’t even on-board the ship anymore.

All of the sudden, the door slid open and Thunderclash stood there with that usual, infuriating grin that showed he was all up for………well, probably up for _anything_ , really.

Rodimus was suddenly very embarrassed. Thunderclash probably felt his field out here and the random emotions wobbling through it. He ducked his head and reached and arm across his chest to clasp his opposite upper arm a bit nervously.

“ _Um. **Hi**_ ,” the flame-colored mech said, softly. “I’m having trouble painting and I think I need to talk about………. _stuff_ ,” he added, raising his head to look up at Thunderclash with a slight frown.

“Come in,” the colorful old Autobot chuckled, stepping back from the doorway and making a motion with his servo to come in. “Anything specific you want to talk about?”

Rodimus entered Thunderclash’s hab suite and looked around—he’d avoided ever coming to this place because of his rocky relationship with his Captain. It was a nice place. It was _really nice_. Thunderclash decorated with the intention of having company over, _constantly_. The berth was big, with very richly-colored berthsheets. The lighting was nice, low and romantic.

“I’m not sure,” Rodimus said, wondering just which of the five chairs he should sit down in.

_Five chairs in one room?_ Well, it was a really big room and multiple seating places probably confirmed the fact that Thunderclash was not adverse to group-fraggings. And people on the _Lost Light_ always gossiped about Rodimus being a slut? No one would ever dare give the heroic, legendary Thunderclash **_that_** kind of label!

“I guess just……..” the flame-colored mech trailed off, rubbing his yellow servos on the back of one of the chairs.

Thunderclash sat down in one of his large chairs and crossed his legs, folding his servos together and resting them on the upraised knee-joint.

“You know. _I’m kinda lonely_. It never bothered me before, I had my anger to keep me going—my hatred of being alive and a weird sense of duty to do all the SIC things here on the _Exitus_ ,” Rodimus began, his optics darting around anxiously. “I guess, since I feel a lot less of that now……I feel pretty lonely.”

“It’s good to feel things, Rodimus—and it’s a lot better if you’re _honest_ with what you’re feeling,” Thunderclash said, his tone soft and his smile warm.

“ _Um_. Don’t think the worst of me, what they all thought……… _but I haven’t. **Um**_ ,” Rodimus stammered, his faceplate flushed a glowing pink. “It’s been a long time since I’ve………. _uhh_ , had relations of any sort. And, I think………well, I think I just wanna have a no-strings-attached frag.”

Then Rodimus straightened up—stiffened up was more like it—and waved his servos anxiously before him. Thunderclash felt the younger mech’s EM field wind up into a small hurricane of emotions.

“I _know_ you’re pretty good! Everyone else says so! And………except for Minerva……..you’re the only one on this ship that I……..” Rodimus argued, his servos waving even more emphatically. “I think _you’re_ the only one I’d trust not to………be bad for me.” Then he facepalmed himself and braced the other servo on the back of the chair he was standing near. “Just……. _let’s frag_ , okay? No emotions, no expectations, just an overload to get me past my anxieties or whatever……”

Thunderclash uncrossed his legs and cleared his intake with a soft rumbling. “Rodimus—you _always_ go into interfacing with emotions, even a rage-frag involves emotional context. Come over here and let’s see if you really are ready to surrender,” the old Autobot hero said, motioning over to the flame-colored mech when he saw blue optics peek through digits covering his faceplate.

Rodimus walked over to the chair and gave a shrug, as if to say: “ _now what?_ ”, gazing down at Thunderclash with puzzlement. The colorful old Autobot grabbed one of Rodimus’ servos and tugged lightly to make the younger mech settle down in his lap. Rodimus sighed and settled in the larger Autobot’s lap, his thighs bracing along the outside of Thunderclash’s own.

“Now, _a kiss_ ,” Thunderclash chuckled, raising a servo and lightly cupping Rodimus’ chin. He reached up and brushed his lips over his Second’s lips very lightly.

“Seriously, do you even know _how to kiss_?” Rodimus grunted when Thunderclash pulled away with a grin. “ ** _This_** is a kiss,” he added, cupping the sides of the colorful older Autobot’s helm and leaned in to thrust his glossa into the mech’s mouth.

After parting a few moments later……..

“You’re right, **_that_** _is a kiss_ ,” Thunderclash chuckled.

“You’re also right—you can’t go into these things without emotions,” Rodimus responded with a wry little smile. “ _Yeah._ I guess after all this time, I _kinda_ like you,” he added. “But I don’t wanna become _‘a thing’_. I really do just want a one-time-frag.”

“It’s fine,” the old Autobot hero said, grinning at Rodimus. “Interfacing is just exercising of a more intimate sort—so we are just exercising together.”

“Appreciated,” the flame-colored mech laughed softly.

“And maybe another time, we can exercise more together,” the colorful Autobot chortled.

“ _Yoooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!!!_ ” Rodimus groaned.

“There are plenty of different styles of exercise we can engage in,” Thunderclash added, his voice low and teasing.

“For the love of Primus, you _really_ just don’t know when to quit!” Rodimus laughed, leaning forwards to hug Thunderclash’s shoulders and laughed against his neck-cabling.

“Aerobics are natural and healthy and you should do them _daily_ to remain healthy,” the colorful Autobot said in a deep and sexy voice, reaching his arms around the slender mech and hugging him.

Rodimus tossed back his head and laughed. This was not where he thought he would be when he woke up this morning. This was not where he thought he’d be after the trial. This was most definitely not where he thought he’d be after the Chaos Incident. And it was beyond anything he could’ve dreamed of back in Nyon. Then he reached down with a servo and finger-flicked Thunderclash’s groinplating.

“Hey, you—open _this_ up for me,” Rodimus said, grinning at the mech whose lap he was sitting in. “Let’s do something relaxing right now and then we can get to the aerobics.” He raised his hips up and opened up his own interface array. His spike pressurized and the biolighting on the transfluid pressureline of his spike pulsed rapidly. Then he gazed into Thunderclash’s optics and grinned.

Thunderclash opened his spike panelling and the long black spike pressurized. It wasn’t as thick as Rodimus expected, but was longer than he imagined. The biolighting was a vivid blue on the transfluid pressure line. Rodimus raised his hips and wrapped his arms around Thunderclash’s neck. Then he shifted his hips a little until he felt the tip of the other mech’s spike rub against his valve mesh. Once he felt the alignment was right, he sank down on the long, ridged organ.

“You know, I’ve never ridden a long-spike before—this is kind of nice,” Rodimus chuckled softly, rocking his hips a little. “ _Wow_ ,” he murmured, offlining his optics and tossing back his head. 

It was different than anything he’d ever had before—granted, most of Rodimus’ trysts happened while drunk on Engex, so he didn’t remember much of them. But it wasn’t just the first time he’d experienced a different shaped spike or anything like that. It was……..the warm arms around him. A frag with no-strings-attached, but with _some kind of fondness_ involved—it was **_really nice_**.

Lips brushed up Rodimus’ neck-cabling.

It felt really nice as he raised and lowered his hips on Thunderclash’s spike. It was nice to be liked and respected and to have a relaxing, gentle interfacing that he’d never actually had before.

“ _Thanks, you jerk_ ,” Rodimus gasped as he arched his back and rode faster—nearing his overload and letting it consume him completely. He didn’t mind surrendering, at least not for today.


	5. Hugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best part of Hot Rod's internship on Earth is a little boy named Daniel Witwicky.

_Note: This one is totally general. I just wanted to do a cute Daniel-as-toddler ‘fic. I believe in the friendship that Hot Rod and Daniel shared, even if that got somehow lost and forgotten amongst the course of the season three episodes of the original G1 cartoon. Heck, it kinda got forgotten by half-way through the movie, even! *wry laugh* Still, even when I was writing G1 cartoon fan-fics when I was younger (in the 1990’s), which were all post “The Rebirth” stuff or pre-movie with the movie characters just coming to Earth—Daniel and Hot Rod/Rodimus Prime’s friendship was a pretty core element of all my ‘fics. I continue that tradition today. :)_

_ Chapter Five: Hugs _

Hot Rod hadn’t been on Earth very long when he was suddenly assigned to be the local bodyguard for Spike Witwicky’s family. He knew, in his Spark—the Autobots were just trying to get him out of the way. He was almost as lonely on Earth as he had been for ten years wandering Cybertron as a newmech fresh from the Forge. 

If only Arcee (and Springer) hadn’t kinda “ _kicked him out_ ” of a relationship, he really thought he could be a part of what **_they_** were.

But even Spike had argued having a “ _constant bodyguard_ ” on his family. So, mostly, Hot Rod either parked in his car mode in the driveway and sat there all day, often recharging—or, if it was a nice day, he laid in the grass in the backyard in his primary mode, watching the clouds drift by. It was boring as everything, but it was the story of his life. Nobody really wanted to have him around, at least here he could _pretend_ he was doing something, even while he was doing nothing.

“Wait for mommy, you silly little boy!” A female voice laughed as the sliding door to the backyard opened from the house.

“ _Plaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy!!!_ ” Squealed a tiny little voice.

“Good morning, Hot Rod,” Carly Witwicky greeted, as Hot Rod sat up and watched the two humans enter their own backyard area.

“ _’Morning_ ,” the flame-colored mech chuckled, looking down at the toddler, who had stopped and stared at him, one hand in his mouth and the other pointing up at him.

The chubby two-year-old was a strange sort of mess—rumpled shirt and baggy shorts, which were larger than normal because the child was still having to wear pull-ups part of the time. He hadn’t quite gotten the hang of toilet training quite yet, but he was getting there. The brown hair was just everywhere, naturally wavy like Spike’s, but a lighter shade.

“Daniel, can you say _‘good morning’_ to Hot Rod?” Carly said, kneeling beside her messy toddler and rubbed his back, soothingly.

“ _’Mooooooorrning!!!_ ” The little boy said, loudly, waving up at the young Autobot.

“Hello, Daniel,” Hot Rod chuckled softly, reaching a servo down and holding a digit out to the little boy to grab onto. It was what he always did when he greeted the young Autobot—something akin to the humans’ handshake greeting. Hot Rod felt warmth blossom in him as the pudgy little hand wrapped around the tip of his servo as much as it could and squeezed as hard as a tiny human could.

He could never understand why, but the simplicity of a tiny human’s thought processes and honesty just charmed him, completely. Hot Rod thought Daniel was utterly adorable and he always loved seeing the youthful energy surging through the child when he’d run (and sometimes trip and fall) all around the backyard, playing in the sandbox (most of the sand made it out into the grass) or swinging on the tiny swingset (half the time it was him sitting in the swing and just moving his legs). It was easily his most cherished part of the job of being the Witwicky family’s bodyguard.

Then a sudden chiming from inside the house made Carly groan.

“I forgot the phone. Come on, you………mommy’s got to go back inside and get the phone,” Carly sighed, standing up and reaching down for Daniel’s hand.

“ _NO! STAY!_ ” Daniel said, very loudly, planting his feet and holding onto Hot Rod’s digit with a death-grip.

“You’ll only be a moment, Carly, I can watch him for a minute,” Hot Rod said, smiling down at the human woman. “I **_won’t_** let him go anywhere until you come back outside,” he added, placing his other servo down to make a sort of wall around the little boy. “ _Literally_. I won’t let him move an inch,” he chuckled.

The blonde-haired woman looked very hesitant, but the phone kept ringing, so she sighed and dashed off quickly.

“ _Rooooooooooooodddddd!_ ” Daniel cried, looking up at the young Autobot with a goofy little grin on his chubby little face. “ ** _HUGGGGGGGGGGG!!!_** ” He added, reaching up his arms and making grabby hands at the flame-colored mech.

Hot Rod’s Spark nearly went supernova with warmth. He let Daniel climb into his servo and raised the toddler up to his chestplate. Daniel slapped his arms broadly across the flame-mark and Autobot brand in the center of Hot Rod’s chest—trying to embrace as much as he could (it really wasn’t much in comparison to the Autobot’s much larger size, however).

The toddler babbled in his own little language, clearly happy at being able to hug Hot Rod as best as he could. With his other servo, Hot Rod gently rubbed a digit on the boy’s back Hot Rod also felt very happy to be able to share the hug, as much as he could do with their great size differences.


	6. Kindred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus felt something unique when he power-linked with Hot Shot, could it someday become something more?

_Note: This pairing is just an odd little one my head threw together when I last watched “Transformers: Energon” (SuperLink)—because I made the amusing comment to my friend, “but they’re kinda representing the same character”. Rodimus and Hot Shot—which, I think that we all know this character in Armada/Energon is kinda really basically a fusion of Bumblebee and Hot Rod (and if that isn’t a combination of interesting characters to begin with, then I don’t know what is)……..so to pair Rodimus with someone who is basically Hot Rod anyways just made me giggle and say “why not?”. *laughs* Totally rated general, because I’m not sure I want to deal with intimacy issues for this particular vein of Transformers fandom at this point. Dynamics and mechanics are pretty different in this universe._

_ Chapter Six: Kindred _

Rodimus had always just done things the way his Spark guided him to do. His Spark guided him to take Cybertronians away from the growing war, a very long time ago, back on Cybertron. He spoke honestly and from the depths of his very core. If people found his words inspiring, then he was glad for that. He welcomed their companionship on his journey. He wanted to find Cybertronians and lead them on a path of peace—eventually finding a place they could all settle down.

Then his desire to assist the natives of Planet Q had gone terribly wrong and Rodimus had only felt regret at what happened on that world. The losses on that world and of some of his own treasured travelling companions, like his original Second-in-Command, Blurr. He chose to help the survivors—an amalgamated being now calling itself “ _Alpha Q_ ” and a last survivor of the beast-kind of that world, elevated by Alpha Q’s scientific knowledge and rebuilt using secret arts taken from Unicron itself, a being called “ _Scorponok_ ”. Rodimus and Alpha Q did not always see eyes-to-optics on everything and it was clear the amalgamated being was frightened of the future and hid the truth of itself from all, but the old Autobot still wanted to do what he could to help.

Even if it meant playing a little underhanded with the Autobots and that young human from Earth, Kicker Jones.

And confronting Optimus Prime, maybe a bit _too heatedly_. The two of them had long ago chosen their different paths, they both followed their Sparks. And……….they still never really saw optic-to-optic on many things, but they still respected one another.

However, the very last thing Rodimus expected to see, by coming back towards Cybertron and the Autobots, was a **_kindred Spark_** in the form of a brightly-colored young Autobot whose name echoed his own original designation—from a time long before he was called Rodimus. A bond ignited in the heat of battle, that gave the potential of so much more.

It started with a power-link, but maybe it _could_ bring so much more into both of their lives. If they both wanted to move towards it. Maybe it would save Rodimus’ Spark from its ongoing grief in the end. Everyone had been working on combat practice on Jungle Planet, gearing up for a much larger battle soon to come.

“Hey Rodimus, not training with all the others today?” Kicker laughed as he swerved around on the top of the Energon Saber, riding it like a surfboard. He had one of the copy-swords and was working on keeping his balance on the back of the Energon Saber while swinging the sword to fight with.

“Just relaxing for a little bit,” the older flame-colored mech chuckled, fondly.

“ _Heeeeeeyyyyyy! Kicker!!!!!_ ” A familiar voice called, rushing out of the nearby building. A large, blue all terrain vehicle came to a screeching halt near where Rodimus was standing.

“ _Hey Ironhide!_ ” Kicker laughed back, still flying about and swinging the copy-sword.

Then the human and the Autobot began flinging playful taunts at each other. Ironhide was weaving and swerving around the young human’s “surf-flying” and Rodimus watched with a soft laugh. Then he felt a familiar presence come up beside him. His head turned to look at the yellow-and-red Autobot and he smiled.

“Good morning, Hot Shot,” Rodimus said, his voice soft and warm in greeting.

Hot Shot chuckled, a little bit of a flush on his faceplate, near the corners of his optics. “’Morning, Rodimus,” the younger Autobot answered. “Are you going to train today?” He asked, reaching up to rub the back of his neck a little anxiously.

“Perhaps we should practice up with our power-link skills a little bit more,” the flame-colored mech suggested.

“Yeah, we could do that,” Hot Shot chuckled in return.

Rodimus could feel the nervousness from the younger mech.

“Or we could talk. I’m all right with either option,” Rodimus added, smiling over at the yellow-and-red Autobot.

“How about walk-and-talk?” Hot Shot asked.

The older, flame-colored Autobot felt the nervousness subside as he acquiesced to the “ _walk-and-talk_ ” option of companionship. He knew the younger mech was likely nervous because their Sparks of Combination connected—even though they had **_never_** met before—and they both felt something, despite the differences in their ages and backgrounds. Rodimus also knew that Hot Shot had great respect and admiration towards him—for the legend of the hero who led others on a path of peace.

“You remind me of one of my oldest friends and dearest companions, Blurr. He and I both worked hard to lead the others on the path of peace,” Rodimus said, deciding to be the one to start the conversation topics today.

“You lost him in battle?” Hot Shot asked, looking up at the slightly taller mech.

“ _A terrible one_. It was when we were trying to save Planet Q—Unicron had sent out these drones to delay us from getting there,” the flame-colored mech admitted with a deep sigh. “Blurr and I had been……. _something_ together. After losing Blurr and then failing to save Alpha Q’s planet—it was a string of failure that had me doubting myself on many points.”

“That’s so rough,” Hot Shot sighed softly. He felt a little more anxiety, because he could tell from the tone of Rodimus’ voice that Blurr was more than just a friend and fellow Autobot—Blurr was likely Rodimus’ lover, for a very long time. So, now where did he fit in to all this—where did he _want_ to fit in with all this? “I suppose we’ve all lost loved ones sometime during this long war.”

“This is very true,” Rodimus said, a rueful smile on his faceplate. “I can power-link with a number of my crew, but **_you_** are the first one I have power-linked with where it felt so easy and natural. I felt a unique connection with you that I have not felt with another in a very long time.”

“Yeah, I did, too,” Hot Shot chuckled. He glanced sideways and saw Rodimus orange servo near him, _maybe_ ………? He reached out and lightly brushed his grey servo against the other mech’s. “I’ve been busy training newmechs for the past couple decades, I’ve never had the chance to really relax and have a relationship. Since Primus gave us the Spark of Combination, I’ve combined with others, but I’ve never felt the way in a power-link with them like I felt with you. It’s kinda strange. _It’s_ …….well, it feels kind of **_right_**.”

Hot Shot knew he’d made the right move when the orange servo clasped his with warmth and fondess. The two of them both stopped walking and turned to each other. Rodimus looked over at him with a smile.

“We have a ways to go, yet—in this battle with Megatron and protecting Alpha Q’s new planets,” the flame-colored mech said, softly. “But when it’s all over, perhaps you and I can see where this bond leads us?” He asked, reaching over his free servo and placing it on the side of Hot Shot’s faceplate. He leaned down and kissed the younger mech, feeling warmth flower inside of his Spark.

“I—I think I’d like that,” Hot Shot chuckled as they pulled apart, his faceplate flushing bright pink.

“ _Whoa! Seriously?! You guys do **that stuff** , too?!_” A familiar voice laughed as a small presence swerved around them. “ _Well, go for it, guys! I’m all behind ya!_ ” Kicker laughed, flying past them with a familiar blue jeep racing behind him.

Hot Shot giggled, covering his mouth, then outright began to laugh. Rodimus chuckled and began to laugh as well. It wouldn’t hurt to have a relationship in this new era, with new companions surrounding him—Blurr would have wanted Rodimus to move on. Hot Shot seemed like a great potential new partner to move on into the future with.


	7. Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blurr and Hot Rod just have to compete at EVERYTHING.

_Note: A random G1 pre-movie setting, with the pairing of Blurr and Hot Rod. While we don’t see a lot of interaction between the two through the third season of the cartoon, there is the little competitive spirit between them in the first episode of “The Rebirth”. I haven’t seen “Cyberverse”, but if from what I heard is right, they were rivals of some sort in racing? My “Star Voyager” series has them as the very best of friends. So, for a G1 setting, I’m going to pretend they’re some sort of friendly rivals—with highly competitive natures. Explicit because……….heck, they’re trying to outdo each other in interfacing. *laughs*_

_ Chapter Seven: Competition _

Blurr pinned Hot Rod to the wall and pushed his frame hard against the flame-colored mech’s, making sure his groinplating was crushed up against the younger mech’s. Then he licked up the line of the thickest part of Hot Rod’s neck cabling, making the fiery mech moan softly and grab his aft as if to pull their crushed-together frames even closer. Blurr felt his engines rev hotter and faster than they’d ever run before. He felt the heat flood his array and his spike panel ached with wanting to be opened, even as his valve tightened with anticipation and got wet with arousal.

Hot Rod reached up and grabbed the stylized fin on the centralized top of Blurr’s helm, he began trying to push the blue-colored mech’s head away, so he could get a few deep incycles and regain a bit of control in the situation—he was **_not_** letting Blurr run all over him in fragging! He felt his valve clenching desperately beneath his panelling and his HUD kept giving him pings, begging for array panel openings right now.

“ _Not fragging, yet, **dammit**!_” Hot Rod growled, pushing hard on Blurr’s helm and shoulder and managed to wrestle him against the wall the blue-colored mech had just pinned him to a moment ago. “You sure this is a safe place? We’re not gonna be stumbled on—‘cause if Magnus finds us, we’re likely to be assigned to different planets for the next millennium?” He panted softly, brushing his lips over Blurr’s hungrily.

“C’monRod, _trustme_ —we’re ** _not_** gonnabefound,” the blue-colored mech laughed as the fiery one nipped at his jawline, playfully. “TheDinobotsweresentbacktoCybertronforamission—they’renotgonnabebacktotheirnestinawhile!” He added with a chuckle as he reached around Hot Rod’s shoulder and lightly scraped the tips of his digits along the sunbright yellow spoiler.

“ _Wait!_ ” Hot Rod gasped, pulling back a few feet from the blue-colored mech. “Grimlock will fragging **_destroy us_** if we screw around in their nest!” The flame-colored mech complained, folding his arms crossly over his chest. Then he looked around—it looked a lot nicer than he imagined the Dinobot’s recharging area would’ve looked.

“ _Ah-ha-ha_ ………we’lljustcleanitupgoodafterwards,” Blurr laughed, moving closer to Hot Rod and nuzzling his neck-cabling, biting playfully and swiping with his glossa. “Swoopdoesn’tmindifwecleanupafterwards—he’sworkedhardatmodernizingtheirnest.”

Well, _that_ made a little bit of sense to Hot Rod. Swoop had slowly been learning how to “ _modernize_ ” things over the years—he was Skyfire’s precious little friend and worked hard to learn more and more all the time. The friendly, littlest member of the Dinobots was more of the home-maker sort from amongst the Dinobots. And he probably would be kind enough to allow people to borrow the space for some “ _alone time_ ”, as long as it was cleaned up. The Dinobots had their own personal views of interfacing over what Autobots (and probably Decepticons) believed. Grimlock probably wouldn’t begrudge them, as long as they took care _not to wreck_ the Dinobots’ nesting area.

And, it was a little bit thrilling to be able to do it in a secret— _and potentially, dangerous_ —place. Hot Rod couldn’t help the thrill that rushed through his circuits as he thought about fragging in a place like the Dinobots’ nesting area. It was a secret place that anybody very rarely approached, because of the Dinobots’ incredibly aggressive personalities. The young flame-colored mech gave a chuckle and then pounced on Blurr, pushing him to the ground and kissing him wetly, his grey servos rubbing up sides and seams with excitement.

Blurr grabbed Hot Rod’s aft and pulled it down so their groinplating was grinding hard against one another. He savored the feel and eager swipes and thrusts of the glossa in his mouth, pressing his own glossa against Hot Rod’s. Hot Rod eagerly responded to the grinding by making little humping motions with his hips, pressing hard against Blurr’s—maybe with just a little more desperation than actual control. The blue-colored mech decided to claim that as his chance to finally make a move to take the dominant spot in the upcoming interfacing. He reached one servo up to plant it on Hot Rod’s spoiler fin and then rolled them over, so that the flame-colored mech was now beneath him.

Hot Rod gave a little growl, because he was not willing to relinquish the top spot in their upcoming fragging—he pushed Blurr’s head away from him as he tried to get the leverage to roll them over, but they both just wound up on their sides, looking at each other, even though their bodies were smoldering with passion.

“ _Dammit, Blurr_ —this isn’t going to work unless we decide who gets to have who,” the flame-colored mech muttered, pushing Blurr’s face away when he tried to kiss him again. “Clearly neither of us wants to surrender and be the bottom—and fragging doesn’t quite work that way.”

“Ihaveawaywecanfigure ** _thatpart_** out,” Blurr chuckled, swiping a palm over Hot Rod’s groinplating and feeling how searing-hot it was with wanting to be opened and played with. “Let’sbothopenanduseourbestfinger-and-mouthtechniquesoneachother’sarray,” he added as he pulled away and then crawled around to switch his position so that his head was down by Hot Rod’s groinplating and his own groinplating was up by Hot Rod’s faceplate.

“All right, _now_ you’re talking some **_real fun_**!” The flame-colored mech laughed as he watched Blurr open his array plating. He saw the dark-grey spike pressurize—it was thinner and longer than some of the other spikes he’d seen, but the pattern of the ridges on it looked…….. _delicious_. The biolighting on the underside, which traced the transfluid pressure line, was brilliant blue—and it was pulsing rapidly. Blurr’s mesh lips were moist and leaking a little bit of lubricant, while the anterior node glowed a bright blue. “ _Damn_ ……” Hot Rod whispered, feeling a little clench in his valve, getting even hornier than he had been before.

He moved to position himself a little better, so that Blurr’s upturned leg was resting on his shoulder and allowed a slight spread to the valve lips. Hot Rod rubbed the tips of his digits of his right servo along the length of Blurr’s spike, pressing lightly into the ridges, even as he wrapped his left arm underneath Blurr’s hip and reached around to bring his servo close to the valve lips and part them lightly with a couple of digits.

Blurr didn’t say anything vocally, but the upshift in the tune of his engines and a soft little purring sound coming from his vocalizer told Hot Rod that the blue-mech was pleased with the attention on his array so far. That was when Hot Rod felt Blurr push his own upturned leg away and dove straight into his valve with a firm glossa and the flame-colored mech moaned softly, the sound making light vibrations into Blurr’s valve as his lips had just descended onto the moist mesh _. He couldn’t afford to be outdone in this! He was going to win this and take the top position!_

But…………. ** _damn_** , Blurr was _really good_ with his glossa! The way he pressed it deeper into Hot Rod’s lightly clenching valve was wicked—the way the tip and edges swiped over sensor clusters made heat increase inside and lubricant leak from the eager valve. The way it scooped and scraped at his internal mesh lining so hungrily!

“ _Dammit_ …….I have technique too, Blurr!” Hot Rod cried, a little bit desperately. Blurr might have a slight age benefit over him—and probably more experience—but Hot Rod was bold and willing to try new things!

The flame-colored mech didn’t push his fingers or glossa very far into Blurr’s wet valve, that was something to save for later. He just gently brushed his lips over the damp mesh and kissed along the folds and rim of the opening, the tips of his digits resting lightly on the rim, bringing his lips down through the shallow valley to the fiercely glowing anterior node. Even as he did all this, he kept lightly rubbing his digits in the length and ridges of Blurr’s long-spike. Anyone could push and go firm with their techniques—but what about the teasing, featherlight touches that made you want more than you’ve ever wanted before…… _where was all that, hunh?_

Blurr’s swiftness and impatience was his flaw—he’d fall before Hot Rod’s more polished techniques! His mouth came down on the swollen anterior node and he sucked lightly on it, as he caressed the spike gently, the tips of a couple digits of his other servo lightly pushing over the rim of Blurr’s valve…….rubbing gently over the inactive activator rings that rimmed the inside of the valve’s opening.

That got the exact reaction Hot Rod had expected, a tremor rippled through Blurr’s frame and lust suffused his EM field, even as a low little moan escaped his vocalizer. However, that made the blue speedster focus even more intently at eating out the flame-colored mech’s valve. Blurr attacked the soft, wet mesh with even more enthusiasm.

Which Hot Rod really liked, but…………wasn’t Blurr going to do anything with his spike? Hot Rod felt his spike hard and aching right there, but the blue-colored mech _wasn’t even touching it_. That was unnecessarily cruel, the flame-colored mech thought. A little annoyed, he reached the heel of his pede around and lightly clonked the back of Blurr’s helm.

“ _You dumbaft—play with my spike, too! You’re being absolutely unfair!_ ” Hot Rod whined, his own grey servo curling and tightening around Blurr’s own long-spike and squeezing it tightly, rhythmically.

“ _Ah-ha-ha-ha,yeahyou’reright_. I’mbeingunfairtosuchanice-lookingspike,” Blurr chortled, softly. He cupped it lightly in his palm and then licked a wet, slow trail up the flashing orange biolighting of the underside.

The two of them, finally synching up their desires, began playing with one another’s valves and spikes with great enthusiasm. Their EM fields wrapped and twined all about themselves and one another with growing lust and it didn’t take too long for them both to reach a pretty intense overload. They laid there, next to each other, heat still flowing out of their arrays and the crisp scent of overload teasing their nasal ridges. Engines roared and then settled to a satisfied purring, even as both mech incyled and exvented to regain control of their senses.

“ _Mmmm_. That was pretty nice, but we still haven’t decided who gets to spike whom,” Hot Rod murmured softly, tracing a light digit over the limp length of Blurr’s long-spike. He smiled as he gazed appreciatively at the wet valve near his optics, still sparking a little bit with overload charge and dribbling lubricant out of the folds of the soaked mesh.

“ThenI’dsayit’stimefor ** _roundtwo_** ,” Blurr laughed warmly, lightly pressing two digits into Hot Rod’s wet mesh and flicking fingertips against a close sensor cluster inside.

Hot Rod shuddered and offlined his optics to focus on the sensation.

“ _You’re on!_ ” The flame-colored mech laughed, focusing on more intense foreplay and fun with the blue-colored mech—this time he’d make sure he’d win against Blurr!


	8. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new friendship blooms between Rodimus and Drift, but trust may not necessarily be a part of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a rough week or so. I'm puttering along on "Torch of Victory" (next GalvaRod 'fic) and researching stuff for my next MegaRod 'fic. For as short as this piece was, it took me way too long to do it. @_@
> 
> Enjoy. :)

_Note: IDW Rodimus and Drift—this is right after the Chaos Incident and before the launch of the Lost Light. The two are just becoming friends and testing the limits of their friendship with one another. And both know that the other is hiding something from them, but neither want to take the bold and frightening step to ask one another what it is, afraid of destroying their brand-new friendship. Relationship, maybe, if they get past trust issues………but likely not. This is pretty much between General and Teen for rating._

_ Chapter Eight: Trust _

“I’m fine with all that, you know,” Rodimus said, crossly, leaning back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “It’s not like they really want _my help_ with anything anyways. I tried to offer something to ‘Bee earlier and he had to wave me away because Prowl was more important.”

“Prowl is _always_ more important,” Drift sighed, trying to sit up straighter in the medical berth. Then he grimaced as pain lanced through his abdomen.

The flame-colored mech jumped up and looked down at the white swordmech with worry, about to say something when a dark grey servo slapped over his mouth. He knew that Drift wanted to try and get up and around by himself, but he was worried. That had Drift incredibly puzzled—he had to wonder _why_ Rodimus had been hovering over him like a nurse-mech after the battles had cooled and everything had settled.

Not that he couldn’t have asked for a prettier nurse-mech, in all honesty. Rodimus was really-good-looking, even before this new frame-rebuild. And why _had_ Rodimus had a frame-rebuild anyways—all he really needed was a bit of a chestblock refurbish???

“ _Gah_ —tell me about it,” Rodimus muttered, spinning about and walking back over to his chair.

_‘That is the loveliest aft I’ve ever seen in all my existence,’_ Drift thought, his optics glued to the finer shapes of the frame in the room with him.

“It doesn’t matter that I carried the Matrix all the way back here, super-glued in my chest or whatnot, and all I get is a thanks and the name I’d already changed my designation to,” Rodimus grunted, sitting back down into the chair with a thump and crossing his arms and legs again. “Did I really have to have a _formal naming ceremony_ because I changed my designation?” He groaned, shaking his head and staring at a spot on the floor before him.

“It looks good for the leader to acknowledge it—we’re still soldiers and I’m not sure what the war is now, but I don’t think we’re done fighting it yet,” Drift said, trying to tangle out Rodimus’ true emotions from the static of multiple feelings echoing through the flame-colored mech’s EM field.

“It’s over and _we won_ , if you believe what everyone’s saying—the Decepticons definitely don’t believe it, but then, they’re being held hostage inside the damn cannon,” Rodimus groaned, slapping both servos over his faceplate. “The _CANNON_ , Drift— ** _they’re being incarcerated inside of the fragging cannon!_** ”

Drift shook his head—there was something _incredibly wrong_ about that entire situation right there.

“There’s also a bunch of new people showing up every hour, practically—Cybertronians who left ages ago, coming back because Vector Sigma sent out some message saying it was okay to come back,” the flame-colored mech sighed, leaning back into his chair again. “What’s **_okay_** about any of this, seriously?” He groaned, turning his faceplate up to the ceiling and staring at a spot aimlessly.

Drift made a small sound in his vocalizer. There wasn’t anything “ _okay_ ” about this.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore, Drift,” Rodimus murmured, offlining his optics and just relaxing. “I don’t know where I gotta go yet, but I don’t wanna be here on Cybertron—not right now, not while it’s like this.”

The former Decepticon sighed softly. “Cybertron is going to need all of us right now, I think. Leaving is out of the question, for the moment,” the swordmech answered with a light chuckle in his voice. “Are you going to run again—like you did back on Earth?” He asked, seriously.

A series of emotions showed on Rodimus’ faceplate, from surprise to anger, just before the flame-colored mech stood up stiffly and walked to the door. He half-turned and looked back at Drift with a frown. “You just don’t understand— _nobody does_. Nobody fought harder than _me_ for Cybertron— ** _I_** was the one who wanted to get back here to save it, when everyone else was ready to cower and hunker down on Earth. **_I_** was the one who brought the Matrix back. And Cybertron has no gratitude for what **_I did_**. So, you can just _frag off_ , Drift,” Rodimus growled, moving his servo to the sensor panel to open the door.

“ _Wait!_ I didn’t mean to upset you, please don’t leave angry,” Drift said, hurriedly, moving to lean forwards and then grabbing at his abdomen as pain shot through it.

A look of worry and concern lit up on Rodimus’ faceplate. “Ratch is going to blow a billion fuses if you get up— _just settle down_ ,” the flame-colored mech said, softly. He sighed and walked back to the visitor’s chair he’d been sitting in, then he sat back down. The flame-colored mech was puzzled at the odd expression that crossed Drift’s features when he said those words. “ _Look_. Cybetron’s a mess and the answer to fixing it won’t be found here. It pains my Spark to see it like this and not be able to do anything to fix it. I tried so hard to get back here to help, because I **_knew_** something was wrong. _I knew it_ ,” he said, shaking his head and folding his arms across his chest. “And now………I can’t do anything to make it better,” the flame-colored mech whispered.

“We’ll find a way, Rodimus,” Drift said, keeping his voice calm and reassuring. “Do you think the answer can be found somewhere else in the universe?” He asked, curiously.

“ _Um, well_ ……..the oldmechs in Nyon liked to talk about the Knights of Cybertron a lot. They left Cybertron a long time ago and went to spread peace and harmony—stuff like that—but they were the ones who fostered in one of the Golden Ages,” Rodimus answered. “If they did that, maybe they know how to help Cybertron now? I don’t know where they’ve gone or anything that would give me a clue, but……..I really do think they’d know what to do.”

Drift raised a servo to rub his chin, thoughtfully. That wasn’t really all that bad of an idea. The Circle of Light spoke about the Knights of Cybertron a lot. Dai Atlas, himself, had modeled most of the society they’d formed in their underground utopia after the legends of the Knights of Cybertron and their heroics. The Circle of Light themselves tended to think they were their generation’s version of the Knights—holding up the ancient and honorable ideals of old Cybertron and the teachings of the Guiding Hand.

“Maybe we can find a direction in which to look,” Drift said, quietly and thoughtfully. Under a million other circumstances, he’d **_never_** take anyone to the new Crystal City, he owed that much to Wing and the others—however, he felt that the Circle of Light would probably welcome someone like Rodimus. “I suppose we shall need a ship, though—and if you could wait until I’m dismissed from medical………”

“ _You’d_ want to come with me?” Rodimus asked, a tone of hopefulness in his warm voice.

“There’s not much place for me here, either,” the swordsmech chuckled softly. “There are those who’d like me to still be a Decepticon here, from amongst the Autobots—and there are a lot of Decepticons not too fond of me because of who I was and who I am now.”

“Yeah, _let’s do it_ —I think the two of us can do it,” Rodimus said, grinning over at Drift.

**_That smile_** was all worth winning from the flame-colored mech. If Drift didn’t already have a relationship with a certain other Autobot right now—he’d be pursuing this lovely mech with all of his Spark. He could still appreciate a lovely form, though, involved in a relationship or not. There were just things that he couldn’t tell Rodimus about—and _that relationship_ was one of them. He also couldn’t tell the flame-colored mech directly about the new Crystal City, because he’d made a promise not to tell anyone about it, but he could make sure they “ _accidentally arrived there_ ” at some point.

Then Drift saw that Rodimus’ attention was gone.

“Something wrong?” Drift asked, a bit worried.

“ _I hate Prowl. **Seriously**_. Fragging lunatic chases me out of half of the meetings of command staff and then demands I show up at his own personal whim,” Rodimus growled, standing up and placing a digit to his audial. “Sorry, Drift—normally I’d blow things like this off, but if I can even get _one person_ to listen to me……….maybe we can get something done here.”

_Oh_. Rodimus had received a glyph message, from Prowl apparently. The whole mood around the flame-colored mech shifted and Drift was actually a little bit frightened of the aura that suddenly flared around his new friend. Rodimus’ EM field might be tamped down and held in check, but that aura was something else.

Rodimus was hiding something, too. But Drift had no idea what that was. The swordsmech couldn’t make any complaints about it though, they had just become friends, _only recently_. He was hiding things, too—sometimes you just couldn’t tell even your closest friends and loved ones every single thing about you or your life.

As long as they trusted each other with the important stuff, that was the only necessary thing.


	9. Tentacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus+Space-Squid=tentacle sex. I think that about sums it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this before I returned to work a few weeks ago.......between my ongoing works and all, I was only able to get back to it now. XD

_Notes: Okay, this one. I was joking about the craziness of “adult anime” with one of my friends who’s doing some fan-fics for various tokusatsu series and then thought—you know, a plot like this is just crazy enough to happen to the crew of the Lost Light. I mean, almost every hentai thing—even if it’s supposed to be some kind of realistic—winds up with tentacle sex at one point in time, it seems like. So, yes, this one is definitely explicit. *laughs*_

_ Chapter Nine: Tentacles _

“ ** _Rrrrargh!_** ” Rodimus cried, skidding to a stop in the doorway of what probably should be the Captain’s Quarters, his arm piping aimed directly inside. “ _You’ve got to be fragging kidding me—a giant space-squid?!_ ” He groaned, seeing the massive occupant of the otherwise derelict room.

And here the _Lost Light_ crew thought they’d actually get some useful salvage out of this ship graveyard!!!

Then there were suddenly readings everywhere that everyone was salvaging at on the various derelicts in this abandoned area of space. Everyone was abandoning their searches to get back to the _Lost Light_ as soon as they could.

“Well, I’m outta here—this has got to be the **_stupidest_** part of my day,” the flame-colored mech grumbled, lowering his arms and starting to turn away to head back to the derelict’s shuttle bay.

Then a long, thick tentacle wrapped around one of his pedes and yanked hard, pulling Rodimus of Nyon into the Captain’s Quarters and towards the grey-and-green mottled space squid. Despite the fact that Rodimus labelled it a “ _squid_ ”—it wasn’t necessarily slimy. In fact, it was rather scaly, including all of the tentacles. It would almost have to be dry and scaly if it actually probably traversed space—the scales would practically have to be _armour-quality_.

“ ** _Heeeeeeyyyyy!_** _Stop—I’m not a plaything!_ ” Rodimus howled as the tentacle grasping one of his legs began to swing him about like a rattle.

Now he’d gone from _annoyed_ to outright **_pissed off_**. He tried to aim his arm piping at the massive body of the space squid, but he was starting to get dizzy from all the being waved about upsidedown, his gyros couldn’t find a balance or reset as the squid kept just waving him about. Then a really thick tentacle wrapped around his waist, turned him upright and held him up above its large body. A dozen large black eyes all looked at him, blinking with strange multiple eyelids at all different angles.

“ _Squiddy, you’re seriously making me mad—just let me go and I’ll forget you ever existed!_ ” The flame-colored mech complained, raising his arms.

Which were immediately bound up by two longer and thinner tentacles.

“ ** _OH, COME ON, YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS!!!_** ” Rodimus yelled, kicking his legs futilely. Then a medium-sized tentacle came straight towards his faceplate. “ ** _IF YOU STICK THAT IN MY MOUTH, I’M GOING TO DESTROY YOU!!!_** ” The flame-colored mech snarled.

Just then, a larger tentacle—almost the size of the one wrapped around his waist—sidled up against his groinplating and Rodimus made a very confused and…….. _a very incredibly and amazingly confused sound_. This **_seriously_** couldn’t be happening, it was like a bad joke!

But then, wasn’t Rodimus’ life seeming like it really was a long-running bad joke, anyways?

“You know what, _bring it on_ ,” Rodimus laughed softly. “I haven’t had a good frag in awhile—and you might be able to make me feel good, but I doubt you’d make me overload, you don’t have charge.” Then Rodimus nudged a pede lightly into the nearby part of the body of the space squid to get its attention. “ _Hey_. If you wanna, then you’ll have to be a bit nicer about asking, okay? Being all grabby-hands…….. _errr, tentacles_ ……is really kind of bad manners. Even a for-fun-frag has some minor set of rules.”

The space squid made a strange, almost musical sound—all of its eyes blinked at Rodimus very curiously as the large and thick tentacle against the flame-colored mech’s groinplating rubbed lightly, the tip of it skimming his seams—as if trying to figure out how to get in at “ _the good stuff_ ”. Rodimus giggled softly. He wondered if the squid were male or female or if it even had a specified gender. Plus it seemed game to “ _play_ ” with other species—so it was a creature that was very self-confident of its prowess. Either that or it had been isolated so long that it would’ve had sex with practically anyone or _anything_.

Not that Rodimus could blame it. Those frustrations would boil deep within someone. He knew exactly how that felt. He felt the same way a little bit—at least a little bit.

“Here, loosen up the grip on my arms, okay?” The flame-colored mech said in a warm and low voice, trying to move his arms a little. The two long tentacles that had wrapped up his arms and held them firm away from his frame managed to slither away and left Rodimus’ arms free to move as they wanted. “That’s _much_ better,” he purred, reaching out for the large tentacle that had been about to assault his faceplate. He pulled it close and wrapped his servos around it gently. “It’s not a spike, but I’ve been told I have some skill at spike-sucking, so _maybe_ you’ll like this at least a little bit—since you were going to thrust it into my intake anyways.”

The space squid made the strange musical sound again, continuing to rub its large tentacle between Rodimus’ legs, pressing gently against the groinplating. The flame-colored mech chuckled and began to stroke his glossa up the length of the tentacle he had in his servos. He licked it with broad strokes and a few quick, teasing flicks. The tentacle rubbing his groinplating seemed to be getting a little bit anxious, rubbing a bit harder and really wanting to get inside of the Autobot pretty badly.

“ _That eager_ , are we?” Rodimus chuckled, nibbling lightly on the tip of the tentacle.

The space squid gave a humming-purring sound, which Rodimus found strangely melodious. It was just a lonely little alien that was hungry for a frag—the flame-colored mech could appreciate that. He grinned and then sent the command to open his array panelling. The space-squid found its tentacle pressed up against a wet, soft mesh and the tone in its musical voice changed to something that sounded incredibly pleased and happy. Another, thinner, tentacle found Rodimus’ spike and wrapped around it with gentle pressure, the tip rubbing against some of the ridges and exploring it. The thick tentacle rubbed its edge along his dripping mesh, getting well-lubricated by Rodimus’valve fluids.

The flame-colored mech couldn’t help but rock his hips a little bit, to move along the thick tentacle, even as he eagerly began to suck on the tentacle in his mouth. He started losing himself in growing pleasure and wished for just one small instant that this space-squid had charge in it, because he wouldn’t be able to get a truly satisfying overload without a partner’s expelled charge. But, Rodimus could have some small overloads of pleasure and just relax with some enjoyment at least. He bumped his hips a little bit and scraped his swollen anterior node along the textured scale of the thick tentacle—getting at least a little energy sparking from the friction of the rubbing. His anterior node drew the small static and friction charges to it immediately, like a miniature lightning rod, and it made Rodimus even more horny now. He bucked his hips a little more frantically against the thick edge of the tentacle between his legs and wanted to get more friction out of the rubbing—more of the, at least, _minimal charge_ that he could get from this erotic encounter with an alien species.

Then the thick tentacle shifted and the tip plunged into his valve— _very deep_ at an initial push—and it surprised Rodimus. He gave a muffled squeal of surprise at the hard push into him, stopping the sucking of the tentacle of his mouth for an instant, before another tentacle lightly rubbed his head……as if to encourage him to continue.

_‘Primus—how very virginal of me to be surprised when a being puts its “ **spike** ” into me!’_ Rodimus laughed to himself, chiding himself inwardly that he shouldn’t have been surprised at the invasion of his valve like that.

The tentacle inside of him didn’t move in a thrusting or surging manner— _not yet, anyways_ —but the tip inside of him began to explore, as if to try and find the sensitive pleasure centers inside of Rodimus of Nyon’s soaking valve. It flicked lightly over a couple sensor clusters and the flame-colored mech gave an agonizing whimper as he tried to rock his hips to simulate thrusting but the sturdy tentacle around his waist held him very still right now. Which was _almost cruel_ , since the space-squid had been letting him rock his hips up until this penetration!

Rodimus keened softly as something almost like a charge flickered against a small sensor cluster inside of him. He desperately wanted **_more_** and wasn’t even thinking about the fact that a space-squid probably didn’t have charge anymore. Then his senses returned for a very lighting fast instant as he realized.

“ ** _Frag_** ………..did you just give me a small charge……. _inside of me_?!” The flame-colored mech gasped, pulling his mouth off of the thinner tentacle he’d been sucking on. He gazed down into the cluster of a dozen eyes—none of them were blinking with multiple eyelids, as they had before. They were wide open and practically glowing. “Say, do you have some kind of electrical-based bioluminescence or something?” Rodimus asked, tilting his head as he gazed into the eyes.

As if in answer, the tip inside of him flicked against a larger sensor cluster and loosed a little bit of charge against it. Rodimus whimpered and his body suddenly craved more of _that charge_. His valve clenched around the thick tentacle inside of him and he shuttered his optics.

“ _Oh, Primus………… **yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh**_ ……….” The young Autobot moaned, leaning his head back and savoring the feel of the low-level charges ignited directly against his valve’s sensor clusters.

Multiple tentacles of varying sizes began to slide all around his frame, some grabbed while others caressed. Rodimus keened even more as a few scraped along his sunbright yellow spoiler fin. He arched his back and whimpered with longing. His entire being was now consumed with a desire for overload and maybe………. _just maybe!!!_.........this space-squid could truly give it to him. The tentacle that was slimy with his own oral fluids plunged back into Rodimus’ mouth, thrusting lightly into his intake—and the flame-colored mech responded by sucking hard on it once more. Even as the tentacle wrapped around his spike began squeezing and jerking him quite thoroughly.

Then came the _real prize_ —as the thick tentacle that penetrated him began to move. It didn’t thrust, _but it surged_. Likely because it didn’t have bones, so it could expand and contract in a surging manner, as opposed to a moving, thrusting manner. _It didn’t need to move_ , because Rodimus immediately began rocking against the surging as the tentacle around his waist relaxed enough to let him move. As he moved and the tentacle surged inside of him—the texture of the scaled tentacle and the charges it was teasing Rodimus’ insides with felt really good. 

The friction of the movements was starting up some more low-level charges—and all of those low-level charges were combining and building up into something bigger. The texture of the scales actually felt better against his mesh and interior lining than a mech’s ridged spike felt. It was like……. _like an internal massage. **With charge**._

“ _Primus………. **oh Primus** ……….I’m gonna……….. **uhhhhhhhnnnnnnnn**!_” Rodimus whined, back arching as he overloaded and transfluid shot out of his spike, splattering in silvery, luminescent liquid on the space-squid’s broad, scaled head-area.

The tentacle still surged inside of him, trying to build another charge, as it trilled happily—it seemed to be very happy that it had given Rodimus such an intense release of pleasure.

Rodimus panted and just held himself still as he let the tentacle inside of him make the surging motions—like a relaxing massage of his valve interior. His mouth was open, slack with pleasure, as the thinner tentacle rubbed along his jaw and lips—like a strange, alien version of a kiss. **_This was actually really nice_**. He’d gotten off— _pretty intensely_ , to be honest—and this was like a lover taking care of him afterwards.

“ _What the--? **Rodimus**!!!_” A familiar voice shouted, right before Rodimus found himself dropped to the ground very unceremoniously.

He onlined his optics to see Drift kneeling over him and was aware of a whining from the space-squid. Rodimus frowned—the swordsmech clearly cut through the tentacles, _completely unaware of the situation_. The flame-colored mech felt really sorry for the poor space-squid right now.

“ _Jeeze, Drift—next time, leave it be……… **I was enjoying myself**!_” Rodimus snapped, thrusting up an arm to slam his servo straight smack into Drift’s faceplate.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has a theme and/or pairing suggestion with our fave flame-colored mech, feel free to let me know and I'll see what I can do. :)


End file.
